Let's Get Human Married In Vegas
by cinnamonsnaps
Summary: You head hurts, your panties chafe and you think you might have done something unbelievably stupid. Stupid, yet hilarious. This is going to be interesting. Featuring alcohol, amnesia, and a whole lot of running around.
1. its all a blur last night

Oh sure, it seemed a good idea at the time. Keywords being at the time, when the time was half a year ago and the location was on the futon watching The Hangover.  
"Shit bro," you said and how you cursed the words now, "shit bro, let's go to Vegas. Like serious."  
John had looked at you bemusedly, saying "haha with what money?"  
"We could do it bro. I earn a pretty sweet amount from my DJing, you're sorted with your lame ass barista job, we could save this shit up and full on go crazy-"  
He punched you on the shoulder. "Yeah right, as if you couldn't stop yourself blowing all your cash on mixing gear."  
Your eyes narrowed. "I could save a metric shit ton more than you."  
He glared back. "Oh it is on."  
"So on," you agreed, allowing the conversation to dissolve into a wrestling match. Per usual.

Then suddenly you were working overtime and people were giving you extra big checks for your gigs and Bro was getting extra revenue from his review work, and before you knew it you'd saved a pile of cash that would make any tyrannical corporate boss proud.  
And suddenly, more people were inviting themselves, and suddenly you'd all pooled money and it became less of a small weekend bro-trip and more like a party for eight where nobody knew what was going on and everybody was utterly stoked.  
Bro helped out with the payments, shoving cash into your hands with an evil gleam in his eye that suggested if you fucked this up, you'd never be able to regain even a smidgen of the low respect he gave you. He even offered to pay for John's fares but was point-blank refused with a "I am a strong, financially independent woman who don't need no charity".  
The same John is - you don't know where the same John is, in fact, you don't know where _you_ are - probably passed out somewhere.  
Probably being awoken by the same goddamn Vegas sun that was physically melting your eyes, which are now opening painfully and being burnt by just sweeping the room -  
oh, there's John.

He looks positively dead lying on your bare stomach, eyes closed like shutters in a low-income area and mouth freely adding to the drool pooling on your chest.  
Ugghh. Wow, way to be attractive John.  
Although if you were completely honest with yourself, John was attractive - in the dorkiest way imaginable. Right now, ignorant to the mutant grey elephant penis of a hangover he would most likely have to face soon, eyebrows laxly curving upwards, black hair tousled and tossed over his eyes...  
A panic twists in as you think, we didn't... did we? fuck i can't remember fuck did we do it fucckkkk  
and then you breathe out as you realise that, while you're currently topless, your pants remain on. And so do his.  
_fucking miracles_  
"John," you mutter, because as much as it hurts to talk and as happy as he looks asleep you're really kind of gross right now, "c'mon wake up. It's morning you fat nasty trash."  
He doesn't even stir.  
"JOHN GET THE FUCK OFF ME," you yell, grabbing his shoulders and then wincing horribly. Oh god that was not wise to do, hilarious as it was.  
Too fucking_ loud_.  
John opens one eye and rolls it to you groggily.  
"Mmmphgppfh" he says.  
"Intelligent," you croak, god damn do you need water right fucking now.  
"Mmmphgh?"  
"I have no idea."  
"Mpgho...?" He pauses and takes in your naked torso beneath him. "... mmnaghghMMN?"  
That was the most panicked and simultaneously half comatose grunt you'd ever heard. "Nah, pretty sure not. Hard to when you're still half dressed."  
"Ughuggh." he mumbles with relief.  
You lie there contemplatively. A shaft of light makes it through a gap in the curtain, dust motes swirling through it via a motion akin to the hordes of tourists you can just hear outside. The traffic below produces an almost whispering noise, like the sound of husky breaths being blown over the top of empty beer bottles, playing an elegy to bad ideas and human foolishness. It's almost beautiful, how crass your situation is. Is this the true heart of irony? You let yourself wonder.  
Or at least, you wonder until your phone explodes with the noise of Satan, effectively ending your contemplative train of thought.  
"Jesus DICKS," you yell, grabbing it and answering the phone before Gangnam Style (oh how hilarious you thought you were, how _fucking ironic and hilarious_) can destroy any more of your precious neurons.  
"Hello, Daaaaaaavvvvve" squawks your girlfriend and it hurts mama it hurts.  
"It's like 4 am go away," you moan. Now is not the time for Terezi's apparent inability to use any kind of normal voice volume.  
"You sound like shit. I'm assuming your first night in Vegas went well?"  
"The morning's peachy. I remember jack shit."  
"Always a good sign. You found anyone else yet?"  
"Only Egbert... fuckin' dope was curled up on me like a lost puppy when I woke up."  
"Mmmrpghrpgh."  
"Haha shut up jackass."  
"What... in the same bed?"  
You lean forward a little. "Aw no c'mon Terezi, not like that. We're still fully clothed."  
"That doesn't mean much. But whatever, I trust your hungover self. I guess."  
"Haha love you babe."  
"See you soon coolkid," she says (and you can _hear_ her grinning) and hangs up.  
You roll John off you with a "brb piss" and where are you exactly?  
Looks like a cheap hotel... looks like your cheap hotel. Your drunk self was actually clever enough to get you back here? You mentally applaud him as you walk past discarded beer, empty bottles, playing cards... wait, what-  
You pick up a fancy jacket. It looks like it's part of a marching band outfit. Sure enough, when you reach the bathroom, you find a... is that a sousaphone? - in the bathtub.  
Silence settles over the dinghy room, broken only by the noise of John trying to get out of bed and your zip - silence that is as thick and opaque as your mind when you try to remember what happened last night. You remember dancing. A lot of dancing. The green felt of the pool tables, god where did you go after that?  
Silence, like a reminder of something you've forgotten.  
The silence grows yet heavier.  
You look down.  
"John," you call through to where he lies. "Why am I wearing women's underwear."  
"... you made some bad life choices," he slurs back, finally appearing to have woken himself up a bit.  
"Shit bro I'm being serious." You walk back through to the bedroom, pantless but not panty-less. "Look."  
He snorts and covers his eyes. "Dave it's too early for this..."  
"What are they, Victoria's Secret? So fucking lacy."  
"Dave please. I'm gonna... gonna barf..."  
You roll your eyes. "Right. Just get dressed so I can find some actual underwear."  
You find, thankfully, that your toothbrush remains in its little pot holder, and you try to regain some semblance of hygiene (fat chance).  
John eventually appears at the bathroom door, eyes glued shut and a pained expression on his face.  
"Get out need piss," he says.  
"Sure Mr Princess. Do you need me to get you a fresh glass of water and some blended mango?"  
"I will cut you and piss on everything you own" groans John and yeah, you decide hungover John isn't the best person to wind up in a morning. You abscond into the bedroom area.


	2. youre hungover and im broke

Digging into your sylladex you find:  
**One (1)** casino chip of indeterminable nature  
**One (1)** mobile phone, with **seventeen percent (17%)** battery life left.  
You did have more before Terezi called you, but calls seem to deplete your battery quicker than texts. You hope you can find your charger soon.  
**Two (2)** twenty dollar bills, hopelessly crumbled and rather icky looking  
**One (1)** plain gold ring of an indecipherable purpose.  
Looking at it kind of makes you feel... matrimonial. You'll ask John about it later.  
**One (1)** small pink card numbered 1025, as well as a symbol that looks like a cassette tape printed onto it.  
**One (1)** business card for... some kind of stone bust purveyor?  
You look at the card more closely.  
You're pretty sure it's for stone busts. You're almost certain.  
A loud groan interrupts your inventory.  
"Oh my god" you hear John say, in a tone that suggests he just found a decomposing cat on his doorstep.  
"Sup?"  
"I... um... oh god. I need. Some new... um." He trails off. "I need a spare pair of underpants. If you have them."  
You pause. "Seriously bro?"  
"Dude no, it's not..." He groans. "It's. It's jizz."  
There's a beat of silence.  
"Oh my god." You begin to laugh, incredulous snorts behind your hand. "You creamed your pants last night. Holy fucking shit that is the funniest thing I ever heard."  
"Shut up you dickwad!" he yells.  
"So you got some kind of action last night... musta found some kind of broad to get your grind on with-"  
"shut up shut up shut up-"  
"It was a broad right?"  
"I will fucking cut you!"  
You take pity on the tormented soul.  
"Look, as luck would have it I have brought just enough underwear to cover your bare ass." You start rummaging around the room, trying to find your luggage. "I'm giving you these brotastic spamprotectors and we can go buy some new underwear later. You have any money?"  
"Nope."  
Found it. You pull a pair of underwear from your bag, awkwardly disposing of an empty vodka bottle.  
"Fantastic. Do you even know where any of your stuff is?"  
Gritting your teeth, you realize you only have one pair in your bag. What the fuck. Did somebody go on a panty raid last night or did you throw them off the balcony? For the greater good of mankind, you decide to give them to John. You guess you can live in panties for a day.  
"If I knew do you think I would be asking you for clothes?"  
"You wear my clothes anyway. Heads up."  
You hook an arm through the doorway and throw the pants in his general vicinity, before closing the bathroom door.  
"Thanks," you manage to hear him mutter. "I'm taking a shower."  
You grunt, deciding that's not a half bad idea, even if the very thought of having to subject yourself to pressured water when you're still very hungover leaves you clutching your head. The violent hiss of the tattered showerhead as John turns it on is enough to make you want to crawl back into bed.  
You do, burrowing under the covers and ignoring the smell of stale beer and morning breath.  
You had a shower yesterday. It's not that urgent.  
Just as you begin to get comfortable your phone goes off again. Swearing, you pick it up quickly answering "Yo."  
"Oh thank god Dave!" a girl squeals and you realize it's Harley. "I'm so glad you picked up! Do you know where the Lucky Charms Motel is?"  
"No fucking idea."  
"Great because I'm stuck here right now and I need a lift. Can you come get me?"  
"Fine, I'll try and find you. If I can find anything else, that is. What the fuck are you doing in a dumbass sounding motel anyway?"  
"Look, you'll... you'll understand when you see me. I mean, it's embarrassing, kind of. Dave just come and get me already!"  
You grin. "One heroic rescue coming up. Shame you picked the most unheroic guy in existence."  
"Help me Davey-Wan Striderobi! You're my only hope!" Her voice crackles. "Oops, gotta go, they're waking up, I'm in Room 22B-"  
The line goes dead. Your battery has fallen to **16.5%**. You sit bolt upright.  
"John! We gotta go get Harley!" you yell.  
He opens the door, wearing a cheapass towelling robe and soaking. "Let me get dressed first."  
"Nope. Gotta run through Vegas half naked at some point. It's a rite of passage."  
"We might have done that already though."  
"... point. Grab a shirt and lets get out of this hell forsaken dump. If you can find one."

The Vegas sun reminds you of home as you step onto the fading tarmac of the hotel's driveway. The noise of the traffic combined with the endless babble of people in general does nothing to help your newly forming migraine.  
"Jesus dicks where did we park the car."  
"Uh."  
A quick sweep around the car park reveals nothing. John checks his wallet.  
He pulls out a ton of casino chips and a business card that sells brass instruments.  
You're pretty sure it's for brass instruments. You really fucking hope it's for brass instruments.  
"Nope, still nothing," he says. "Shit."  
"Dude. Where's your car?"  
He flashes you a look that says now is really not the best fucking time.  
"We've got to find Casey first. We've got to."  
"Your piss coloured car can wait! We gotta rescue Harley!"  
"With what? What are we gonna do Dave, just magically float over to this mysterious place that we don't even know the location of?"  
You shoot him a glare through your shades.  
"I have enough money for a bus."  
"Are there buses in Vegas?"  
"I don't fucking know."  
"Well maybe you fucking should."  
"What the hell, how the fuck am I supposed to know if there are buses in Vegas? That's an asshole thing to expect -"  
The both of you are interrupted by a yell.  
"Hey you!" a man's voice cries, "you kids! I need to talk to you!"  
"Oh sugarlumps," John mutters and whirls round to face him.  
"You're the idiots who stole all those shopping carts!"  
He's dark skinned and is wearing some kind of ill-fitting cotton suit, with a comedy police tape tie that completely fails to be amusing.  
"Haha, what?" you say. "Stole what?"  
"Shopping carts. Precisely," he says, coming to a stop in front of you, "52 shopping carts to be exact."  
"I think you've got the wrong guys," you shrug. He glares at you both, before reaching into his pocket for- for a gun-?  
"Woah, shit bro we don't want any trouble-"  
He pulls out a set of photographs.  
"See these? These are evidence. Evidence. Look." He holds up a picture and yep that's certainly incriminating. It's a CCTV screenshot down some kind of alley, labelled "1 AM". There's you alright, in some kind of... wait is that a dress from Madoka? holy shit - and John as well, wearing the suit you'd decided on at the beginning of the night.  
You try not to snort with laughter. The alleyway is filled with shopping carts. From end to end, just a sea of metallic wire and plastic handles.  
John flashes you a furtive glance and you can tell he's calculating how much that would have boosted his prankster's gambit.  
"That might not have been us," you say, pokerfaced. "I bet there's load of blonde girls in Vegas."  
John struggles not to giggle.  
"Don't pull that crap," the man says angrily. "I'm the Authoriative Reclamation officer and I deal with dicks like you daily. Do you understand how much it costs the state of Vegas to repair the damage idiots like you do to this place?"  
You shake your head. "Are you fining us?"  
"Damn right I'm fining you. $40,000."  
John stops struggling to laugh and stares at him. "What?"  
"I could also charge you with theft, seeing as you haven't yet returned the carts -"  
"If we brought all the carts back would you reduce the fine?" he says quickly. "Please. We're sorry, we'll look for them and get them straight back to you with a written apology, and we'll pay the reduced fine plus 5% for damages."  
Typical John, wouldn't back down from or apologise for a prank. Unless money was involved.  
The man gives you both a long stare.  
"Legally I would be within my rights to request full payment even upon full return of the missing items. However, I know you're about 10 times less likely to actually pay me the full amount anyway, and I suppose you could argue a case of excessive repayments..." He shakes his head. "If you bring the carts to this location by 6 pm latest -" he hands you and address for somewhere called Medium Mart - "I'll cut the fine to $6000 dollars and drop the court case, since you're doing my job for me."  
"Deal." John says, and the both of you shake hands.  
"A reminder that if you don't turn up, we have you on CCTV and already know your names and addresses from the hotel."  
With that, the officer gives you both a mutinous look before briskly spinning around and stalking off.  
John lets out a groan. "Great. Where the fuck are we gonna find $6000?"  
"John. I think the bigger problem here is where the fuck did we leave those shopping carts."  
He waves his hand vaguely. "Oh, I know that. I can kind of remember that part, actually." He gives you a tired smile. "Best prank ever."  
You nod. "Well, we've got around 6 hours to get those carts to the shopping mall, and Jade is still waiting for us to rescue her like Rapunzel, but instead of a fairy tale tower it's probably some shit hole the other side of Vegas."  
You spend a few minutes arguing over whether or not to catch the bus, before John lightens up and says, "Call Vriska and ask her to give us a lift!"  
"No."  
And yet somehow you find yourself calling Vriska, using up another **0.5%** of your precious **battery life**. "John you speak to her. I can't. I just can't."  
He takes the phone off you, rolling his eyes. You catch half the conversation.  
"Hey Vriska! Nah it's me John. ... no ... no! Oh my god no. I didn't. If I did, why does everyone think it would be a guy? I woke up with Dave actually - No! Look shut up for a second I need your help! We need a lift to get Jade. Do you know where the, um, Lucky Charms Motel is? You do? Could you give us a ride? ... haaha yeah I walked into that one. Great. We're outside Skaia hotel. See ya in a bit. Bye."  
You're only a little jealous of how easily John gets on with Vriska. In no way does your bromance feel threatened by how close they often seem to be. Nuh uh.  
"People need to stop assuming things," he says, blushing. "Bros can sleep in the same bed."  
"First rule in the bro book," you nod.  
You pass the time waiting for the spiderbitch corroborating your broship with fist bumps and lame jokes. You can tell John needs it.  
It's like he feels particularly homo right now, you think, and he just needs some biznasty brotime to reassure his girlish sensibilities.  
You're interrupted ten minutes later with a "Heeeeeeeey baaaaaaaabe!" and the sound of a car pulling up. "Get in Mindfang, baby!"  
John waves enthusiastically while you mutter "please stop naming your cars it's making me uncomfortable". You notice Gamzee in the front seat, creepy ass clown douche. Bros in the back seats it is.


	3. i lost my fake id you lost the motel key

"So what did you motherfuckers all up and do last night then?" Gamzee says jovially and goddamn, you can smell the smoke tumbling off him like it was trapped in his hair, or the folds of his clothes.  
If you get pulled over by the police you are so screwed.  
"Ahaha, actually we can't remember most of it." John admits nervously, and it's obvious that the clown freaks you both out.  
Gamzee and Vriska grin in unison and it's the scariest thing you've ever seen.  
"I mean, I tend to have a bad memory of my drunken shenanigans anyway but this is... even worse than usual? Like, I can barely remember... _anything_..."  
Vriska high-fives the juggalo. "Plan Vriska-Wins-At-Vegas was a success!"  
You lean forward, narrowing your eyes. "You guys had a plan?"  
Gamzee grins and says "Yeahhhhh", rolling out the vowels and letting the word trail off, before sitting in silence. Everyone stares at him a moment.  
Vriska picks up where he left off. "Of cooourse we had a plan! This lame-o trip was going to be a complete FAILURE if we had left it up to you doofuses!" She waggles her eyebrows disconcertingly. "So, we decided to... spice up the beverages a little. Shake things up."  
You and John look at her with mouths agape.  
"You're kidding right," John says. "you _are_ joking, aren't you?"  
"Haha nope," Gamzee chuckles, "we added all sorts of miraculous motherfuckin things to the drinks that you had been poured, when all you motherfuckers weren't in the way of looking."  
"Yeah, we spiked your drinks so sneakily."  
"You _spiked_ our _DRINKS_?"  
"Calm your tits Egbert! There wasn't anything lethal in there -"  
"Oh my god," he turns to you, "oh my god we were drugged, what if the police saw us, what if someone realised, what-"  
"Chill the fuck out bro," the juggalo rumbles, "we made sure you didn't come to no harm. It was only up and sopor slime, nothing heavy."  
"Sopor slime?" you nearly yell, but restrain yourself with a poker face Bro would be proud of. "What the fuck - we didn't agree to this! That shit's - that shit's -"  
"A motherfucking miracle," nods Gamzee, and you just wanna punch his face right now.  
"No wonder we were so fucking out of it, I mean god fucking damn..."  
John looks mind-numbingly shocked, and you can practically hear his pranksters gambit hit negative levels. His face is a mixture between fear and anger and you feel the need to soothe him a little.  
"... at least we know now just how high we have to be, huh," you joke, flashing him a small almost-smile. He snorts for a second and then shakes his head frustratedly.  
"That was irresponsible, Vriska. If we'd been caught, we would have been in so much... I don't know, so much trouble! We came to get wasted and have fun, not get high and have amnesia! You never think before you do anything!"  
"Your trouble is, John, that you never have any fun!" she snarks back. "I saved this trip. I made it what it is! Maybe you should thank me!"  
"_Thank_ you? You want me to _thank_ you for non-consensually doping me, losing my stuff and getting in trouble with the local authorities?"  
"You had fun, right? I mean come on when else would you ever have the guts to do what you did, huh?"  
"And what the fuck did I do?" His voice is breaking, on the verge of shouting. "I woke up with no money, jizz in my pants and no clothes. I can't remember 90% of the events leading up to where I am now. It turns out we stole 52 shopping carts and have to return them all or face tens of thousands of dollars as a fine. What! The fuck! Should I be thanking you for?!"  
The car screeches to a halt. "You know what?" Vriska screams. "Get out. Get the fuck out! You're at your stupid love motel. Go pick up Harley and have sex with your husband and never invite me on anything again, you asshole!"  
John goes red and looks like he's about to full on explode, but you take your cue and quickly open the car door, pushing him out.  
"Nope nope nope. C'mon John before this gets any worse -"  
"_Don't fucking push me Dave I can get out by myself -_"  
As soon as you're out of the door the car screeches off, leaving a trail of dust and the faint smell of weed. Gamzee waves lazily out the window. John sticks his middle finger up at him.  
You stand in silence, staring at the dust settle again.  
As you've often said to your friends, words are your jam. You can maim, wound, humiliate and tease with syllables and vowels and consonent. That said, words may be your weapon but you don't know how to heal or comfort with them with them, and that's probably what John needs most.  
You opt for a "You ok?"  
He snaps "No I am not fucking ok Dave. I think I am the furthest from ok I have ever been."  
You don't take offense, even though your migraine has turned into the mother of all migraines and you're tired and hungry and put-upon, because you know it's just John being unable to deal with a stress-hangover two times combo. You know John when he gets like this. He just needs to bitch it out.  
You turn to him and open your arms in the universal gesture for quality bro hugs.  
"I'm not having sex with you," he says viciously, and you flinch but don't drop your arms.  
His face softens and he brings a hand up to his face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." His expression crumples from anger to destitution. "She just, she still winds me up, and she still won't acknowledge any kind of responsibility, and I just - I just can't believe at one time she said she was going to change, I believed she'd changed -"  
You aren't waiting any longer. Taking the initiative, you step forward and scoop him into a warm hug. Shit's so unironic you can hear your coolkid alter ego weeping softly somewhere but you don't care.  
"-and now we have to fix what we did and pay money we don't have and find everybody and she just, she takes all your love and turns it into hate-"  
"Shoooooosh," you say calmly, a technique you picked up from Karkat. Asshole he may be, but kid's a genius at calming down angry fuckers like John. "Shoosh, it's ok. Bro, chill. We got this. Shoosh. Don't need to fight with our exes."  
He nods dumbly. "Yeah. Yeah. Ok."  
You both stand in the parking lot, surrounded by other people's shabby cars and the cheap motel stucco, and you wrap your arms around him and let him work his anger out inside his head. Rose could probably do this faster, but you're Dave and you're all he has right now, so she can suck it.  
"C'mon lets get Jade."


	4. spare me the freaking dirty looks now

Room 22B turns out to be on the other side of the building, an muddy brown door in a row of muddy brown doors facing onto grey pavement slabs and the back of a dusty warehouse. The one thing that marks Room 22B is the figure in a fur suit sat outside it.  
You nervously approach. The figure looks up, dog ears drooping comically over unbrushed black hair.  
"Finally!" Jade squeals, before running up to pull you both into a bear hug. "I've been waiting for nearly half an hour now!"  
"Holy shit what are you wearing," you grin. "Is that... a furry costume?"  
She goes bright red. "Shut up okay? I knew it would be embarrassing!"  
John giggles a little beside you, and you relax knowing he's feeling better.  
"Okay so you know when we went to the casino and I found a group of animal lovers hosting a charity ball last night, you know, like the charity groups who run big events? It was pretty good until someone invited me to an after party."  
"You crashed a charity ball?"  
"Shh, yeah, but that wasn't the weird part. It turns out I'd gate crashed a convention for... " she whispers, "other kin."  
John looks at her. "Aren't they those weird ass people who think they're cartoon characters...?"  
She rolls her eyes. "I'm sure lots of people would approve of how politically correct you're being right now. But anyway, these were the animalkin type or something, I was too scared to say no, and to be honest some of their animal costumes were pretty cute, I mean there was one guy who identifies as a horse and his kigurumi was pretty adorable too. Then I woke up in this suit with some girl drooling on me. And all my stuff is still back at the hotel!"  
"Plus you stink," you add helpfully and she rolls her eyes.  
"Thanks Dave, you big meany face. Did you guys bring Casey?"  
"We don't know where she is," John says, over the top of you muttering "_why the fuck do you guys call his car that i don't get it_"  
She shrugs. "How did you get here?"  
"We got a lift off. Um. Vriska. But she couldn't give us a lift back."  
"You two fought again," she says, and it isn't a question. "In that case I guess we're kind of stuck -"  
"Excuse me," says a voice, and the door to 22B creaks open to reveal a huge guy.  
A huge guy in a horse onesie.  
"I couldn't help but overhear you needed a lift," he says in a deep, regal voice. It's in complete juxtaposition with his outfit and you find yourself biting the inside of your mouth in order not to burst out laughing. "I would consider it an honour to be of service to Greensnout Pauntress."  
John lets out an involuntary gigglesnort and Jade turns bright red.  
"Thank you so much Horuss! It's kind of an emergency." She turns to you, hissing, "if you even try to take the piss I will shoot you in the foot."  
"Woah slow down there friend," you smirk.  
"I will tell them about..." she leans forwards and whispers in your ear, "Akwete Purrmusk."  
You're pretty sure your face goes white, or whiter than usual. "You wouldn't."  
"I'm sure John would love to know those items you let me order for you. What were they? Oh yeah, half a tub of body paint and a leopard print leotard..?"  
"No you shut up right now oh my god that was once and it was _ironic_ -"  
"What was ironic?" asks John curiously and you purse your lips and give her a helpless glare.  
"Nothing! Horuss, would you be ok with giving my friends a lift as well?"  
"If it is not too distant then of course."  
You breathe an internal sigh of relief. You can never completely escape your furry phase, but you'd sure as hell tried to cover it up.  
"Right, where to?" she asks and a question presents itself in your head. What will you do?  
John gives you a wry smile. "It's 12.30 pm. We're three days drives from home -"  
"- we've got a lift in a stranger's car -" you answer.  
"- we have no cigarettes -"  
"- it's practically midday -"  
"- and you're wearing sunglasses."  
You nod at each other. "Hit it," you say at the same time and he bursts into giggles.  
You're interrupted by your phone ringing. You sigh, the bold strains of Nicki Minaj's sultry tones chanting "you a stupid ho" signifying only one thing. Rose.  
"Sup."  
"Ah, you're awake then," Rose's voice crackles at you.  
"It's a goddamn miracle. Got three hundred non-believers to convert in record time, getting all missionary in far off lands. Heathens who don't know the glory of Dave Strider suddenly being enlightened by my bodacious awakening. Shit, let's be Jesus."  
"If you could not launch into a self absorbed tangent every time I open my mouth, I would appreciate it."  
"If you could not snark like a bitch when I open my mouth, it would be just as miraculous as me being awake this early."  
"Before I lose my wearing patience and ask you to pass me to John, how much do you remember of last night?"  
"A metric fuck ton of nothing with a side of fuck all."  
"... I see."  
"Rose. Rose what was that. What do you see. Rose you're disconcerting me again."  
"You honestly cannot recall anything? The karaoke with Bob Ross? The bridal store? The wedding chapel?"  
"Woah shit wedding chapel?" you blurt out. John gives you a confused look. Obviously he doesn't remember that either. He looks at Jade, who shrugs.  
"Ah... Oh dear. Dave, have you found a mysterious ring upon your person?"  
"Yeah. Yeah, found it in my sylladex like Golem reaching out with his pasty fingers. I don't have to throw it in a volcano or some shit do I?"  
"You may want to later, unfortunately. Ask John if he has a similar one on his person."  
You do, and he fumbles with his sylladex. He pulls out an identical ring, and looks at it, alarmed and puzzled.  
"... yeah he does. Okay Rose I'm a little freaked out now. Did we rob a jewelery store...?"  
A muffled voice sounds from her end and she lets out a throaty chuckle, catalysing a low conversation you can't make out through the connection.  
"Rose. Don't ignore me when you've dropped a bombshell like that. Rose. Rose!"  
She comes back to the phone, slightly breathy.  
"Dave, as priceless as your reaction is going to be, I suddenly find myself rather preoccupied."  
"Oh.. oh god Rose! Ew ew is that a girl oh my god. Rose stop making out with your one night stand and tell me what the fuck is going on."  
She giggles, she fucking giggles. "I'm sure one trip to the, ahem, Golden Sunshine Wedding Chapel may enlighten you somewhat. And if I could request that you don't call me back for a while, I'm sure I would appreciate it."  
"Oh my fucking _god_ -"  
She hangs up. Your phone battery has now depleted to **14.5%**.  
You set your jaw and look Horuss straight in the face.  
"Take me to the Golden Sunshine Wedding Chapel, pronto."

You sit in the back again, letting Horuss and Jade talk themselves hoarse in the front.  
Your bad night's sleep is beginning to catch up on you but you remain straight-backed and poker-faced. Can't let the Strider name down just because you're a little - scratch that, a lot - hungover.  
That is, until John leans against your shoulder with a sad, sleepy look on his face. You're both exhausted. You bring up an arm and wrap it around his shoulders, even though the Vegas sun is already beating down in full force, and allow him one small smile. He gives you a blank look, too lost in his thoughts to respond.  
You wonder if he's still thinking about Vriska, his dream girl who let him down. It had been like a scene straight from Hollywood. Good natured dork gets the hot edgy chick, rated 15+ for moderate swears and sexual allusions, the next best chick flick rom com to grace the big screen - except life didn't work like that, and after you get the girl, what do you do?  
What do you do when the girl leaves you again?  
Your mind turns to Terezi uneasily. She'd been more distant with you lately. Not in a cold manner, just - she'd stopped acting like your loved up girlfriend and started being your best friend again. Which you guess is fine, but you wonder if she really wants to be in a relationship. You're not sure anymore.  
She didn't say I love you in return when she called. It appeared that she'd slipped out the habit.  
At least she wasn't screaming at you like a certain other spiderbitch tended to. Poor John. He'd really thought she'd changed. Apparently not.  
You give his shoulders a light squeeze and he leans into you absentmindedly, and you internally smile because this is what brocuddles are all about, just you and him and the back seat of a car and wow ok that didn't come out right. What you mean is -  
"We're here!" Jade sings out.


End file.
